


Posthumous

by moriartealeaves



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 09:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12723726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moriartealeaves/pseuds/moriartealeaves
Summary: After the battle, Draco takes to writing his thoughts down. Along the way, he decides to make a list of people to apologise to. As we all know, apologising is never easy, especially when you're Draco Malfoy.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Day 1 _

_ My name is Draco Malfoy. I am almost eighteen. It has been one day since the Dark Lord died. One could say I died too. I have not slept. I am due for my trial tomorrow. I do not think that I will be sleeping anytime soon. _

 

The judge looked bored by the time Draco had stepped into the room. He looked at him as though he already knew that he would be shoving another criminal into Azkaban. Draco had the uncanny feeling that he would be right. The noise of the crowded court was too much, too much. Too many people, too many cameras, itching to snap a picture of him. Sounds penetrated his ears and he gritted his teeth to remain composure. It did not help that he was alone.

 

“Does Mister Malfoy possess the dark mark?”

 

The room fell into silence. Attendants scrambled to check his arm. As if predicting he would struggle, they used more brute force than necessary. Draco felt like some kind of monster. Who knew all one needed was some black mark to turn into a beast?

 

“Yes, sir,” one of them rasped out.

 

The judge snorted and muttered something that vaguely sounded like, “ _ Of course he would. Malfoys! _ ” Once, a mere remark like that would have sent Draco into a mad rage. Now, he was not sure whether it was worth getting angry over. The judge cleared his throat. 

 

“I believe Mister Malfoy is guilty of committing many crimes during the war, such as leading the Dark Lord into Hogwarts. By doing so, he has put lives in danger. This cannot be ignored.”

 

“Sir?” a clear voice rang out. Heads turned and murmurs were heard, disrupting the otherwise silent trial. 

 

“Yes, Mister Potter?” the judge said, sounding a thousand times more awake now.

 

“I’d like to testify for Mister Malfoy. He was forced by the Dark Lord to make the wrong choices, but in the end, he still saved my life. He has greatly helped me in defeating the Dark Lord.”

 

The hall burst into a whispered frenzy. The judge started sweating, and Draco had never been more shocked in his whole life. 

 

“Well, since you put it that way, I suppose Mister Malfoy has redeemed himself. After all, Mister Potter is the most reliable source of information here. However, for the safety of the wizarding community, I will put Mister Malfoy under house arrest. This is my final decision.”

 

_Safety of the wizarding community?_ Draco felt as though he really had hit rock bottom. It finally hit him that people thought he was dangerous, that he was impulsive! A long time ago, he would have taken pride in seeming cruel. That was a long time ago indeed. It was almost amusing, seeing the law bow down to Potter. However, he could not bring himself to twist his lips into a sneer. In fact, he hoped that he never would sneer again. Beside him, Weasley and Granger were looking at Potter worriedly, but Potter kept his stony gaze on Draco. 

 

Draco closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

_Day 7_

_It has been one week since my trial. I have nothing to do._

 

A house-elf timidly knocks on the door. 

 

"Sir, a lady is here to see you. She introduces herself as Hermione Jean Granger."

 

"Let her in," Narcissa says. Draco had never noticed it, but Narcissa certainly had grown quite pale and thin.

 

"I wonder what she would want with us?" Narcissa muses. Draco shrugs, very much unsure himself. 

 

Granger enters the room carrying a bouquet of flowers. 

 

"Good afternoon, Mrs Malfoy, Draco," she says, handing Narcissa the flowers.

 

"Thank you for the flowers, Miss Granger. They are lovely," Narcissa replies politely. Draco kept mum, not wanting to accidentally cause trouble.

 

"I thought they would be able to brighten up your home. And please, call me Hermione." Granger smiles, and Draco's throat started closing up. 

 

"What brings you to the Manor today?" Narcissa enquires. Draco notices that she no longer refers to the Manor as "home". Then again, neither does he. 

 

"I wanted to see how you both were doing, perhaps offer some company. I also have come to speak to Draco."

 

"Well, then I shan't hinder you." Narcissa gathers the flowers and swiftly glides out of the room. Draco, still pointedly avoiding Granger's gaze, winces when he hears the doors slam shut. The room is completely silent for awhile, neither knowing what to say to each other.

 

"Draco, I'm aware that we have not really been on good terms," she starts hesitantly. "I've done a lot of thinking over the past week, and I would like to start afresh with you."

 

Admittedly, that had caught Draco off guard. He did not expect Granger to even come to the Manor, much less offer a new beginning.

 

"Why?" he asked, voice hoarse with days of disuse. 

 

"The war is over now. I realised that our, no, my perception of you is biased. I want to try to get to know you, without the prejudices or pressures that we dealt with all those years ago. What do you think?"

 

His throat closes up again and he takes a look at Granger's expectant face. "I'm sorry," he whispers, body starting to shake. "I was wrong about you. Who gives a damn about blood purity anymore? You will always be more brilliant than I am. I'm sorry I called you a mudblood, I hate myself for that. I'm sorry I've been nasty to you, I realise that I was envious. I don't deserve your friendship."

 

He blames it on the week of solitude for causing him to cry.

 

Granger puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I think I forgave you once I understood why you made all those choices," she hums. "Do call me Hermione, won't you?"

 

"Thank you, Hermione," he says tentatively. Hermione's smile gives him a small bit of warmth. 


End file.
